


Show me Gone

by mariadperiad20



Series: Foray into B99 [13]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Established Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, F/M, Happy Ending, Show me going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:02:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22457671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20
Summary: “Show me going”.Jake’s fingers were shaking slightly as he pushed the button of his radio.“Peralta. 33218.”Request fic!
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Series: Foray into B99 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1320137
Comments: 23
Kudos: 505





	1. Jake's Perspective

_“Show me going”._

Jake’s fingers were shaking slightly as he pushed the button of his radio.

“Peralta. 33218.” He said. His phone - turned off - sat like a lead weight in his pocket. His gun existed in some subliminal space - waiting to be used.

Jake let out a slow breath, closing his eyes.

This was cool, right? A shooter, gunfight? This was supposed to be exciting, John McClane-y, Die Hard-esque, crazy adventure. He should be over the moon about this.

All Jake felt was a tension in his chest.

And all he could think about was Amy.

She was waiting for him. They had wedding plans and shit. They were supposed to go pick paper for the name cards this weekend.

Fuck. The precinct probably knew what was happening by now. They were probably worried.

He wanted to turn on his phone, fuck safety, fuck his own life. He wanted to hear her voice.

But that would put everyone at risk. He couldn’t be selfish.

Maybe she was trying to call him. Or maybe she had already left to smoke a shame cigarette, nerves getting to her. Or, maybe she was still frozen at the radio’s side, waiting for news.

Jake let out another breath. Slow, easy. He had to focus. People’s lives were in danger. He would worry about Amy if, no, when he got out of this.

Jake waited for the radio dispatcher to give him directions. Leave his phone, off, in his car. Go to the impromptu headquarters being set up in the street.

Try not to die.

Okay, that last part was more Jake’s own personal direction, but he was sure that they were all thinking it, right now.

Well, if he had to die… going out guns blazing was a pretty cool way to do it.

Not like he wanted to die at an old age with Amy or anything.

Nope. John McClane! Action! Guns! Excitement! Jake forced himself to focus on the cool, movie-type stuff playing out in his life.

Jake entered the blockade. Some people from the 125, his old precinct, were there. They nodded at each other in acknowledgement - no smiles in sight. There wasn’t time for reminiscing, right now.

The Captain in charge of it seemed a bit stressed, but was kept tightly professional.

“Detective.” He said brusquely, “Get suited up. We need everyone in kevlar and body armor, five minutes ago.”

“Roger.” Jake said, picking up a vest from the quickly dwindling pile on a table nearby. He kept his badge on - just in case.

He didn’t want Amy to have to ID his body.

Wow. Morbid, much? Jake really needed to rewatch some action movies stat, if he was wasting this perfectly good opportunity for the sake of being _worried_.

Jake checked his gun, before sliding it back into his holster.

Someone shoved a larger gun into his hands - the one that could shoot around corners, from training day a few years back. Guess it was in circulation now, after all.

Jake checked the magazine, slipping the strap over his shoulder.

Noise surrounded him, officers in various stages of preparedness bustling around him. A beat cop smiled nervously at him, as she tightened the straps of her bulletproof vest with steady fingers.

It was probably her first time wearing one.

She was handling it remarkably better than he was - he felt like a million pins were pressing against his skin, nerves alight.

Although, none of that showed, of course.

This was the job.

Emotions could - and would - come later.

For the ones who made it to later, anyway.

Another detective, already decked out, spoke next to him.

“You’re Detective Peralta, right?”

“Hm? Yeah.” Jake said, turning to him, and putting on a smile.

The detective stuck out their hand. “I’m Gonzalez, with the 9-7.”

They shook hands. Jake noticed Gonzalez was gripping hard - anxiety of what was going on edging through, even as her voice was light and his stance casual.

They were all too good at hiding their nerves. But no matter how good they were at it, they always managed to find a way to sneak past the defenses.

Jake knew his grip was probably too tight as well.

They let go, Jake awkwardly flashing her a grin. It was faint, but they both understood that it was a formality more than anything.

There wasn’t much to be happy about, right now.

“So, how long’ve you been in the 9-7? Haven’t seen you around before.”

“I work cases on the far side.” She gestured with her thumb, “Closer to the 7-6 than the 9-9.”

“Oh.”

They lapsed into awkward silence, as the Captain called everyone to attention. Within seconds, the entire place - moments ago filled with incessant chatter and movement, was stock still, silent. Jake wasn’t even sure if anyone was breathing - he knew he wasn’t.

“We’re breaking into teams of 5. You’ll be given your instructions from there.” The Captain said, calling out badges.

“33218.”

“Well, that’s me.” Jake said, faux cheerfully to Gonzalez, walking over to his team. They were team #3 - going to come in from the east side, block off the windows to the building and where one of the two fire escapes were. Jake watched as Gonzalez got assigned to team #5 - he hadn’t paid attention to what they were supposed to do, to busy staring at his team’s side of the building and trying to figure out possible routes the suspects would try to take. His team had two Johnsons - classic - and one Ortega. And him.

All too soon, they were ordered to move. Jake kept his gun on him, following one of the cops - the tall Johnson - in standard formation. Working their way inside the building, clearing it as they went.

After the initial shots, it had gone quiet. There was definite movement, and the two suspects were still around, but for now, it was a game of hide and seek.

Jake realized he was clenching his jaw, but couldn’t seem to make himself stop.

As they cleared another room of the building, and started making their way up the stairs, shots rang out.

They all reacted, taking points from each exposed angle, waiting.

The sound had been muffled - from far away, most likely. Jake felt his adrenaline spike even higher. That could have been a cop.

Their radios were silent - couldn’t risk drawing attention to themselves - and Jake itched to know what was going on. The Captain had said they would only make noise over it for the all-clear. And it wasn’t going off.

Jake tightened his grip on his gun, as Johnson resumed their pace upwards.

They all knew what those shots meant.

But they all had a job to do.

So Jake needed to fucking do it.

He kept his eyes sweeping the area as they finally made it to the landing of the second floor. They were still hugging the east side, the fire escape blocked away by their presence.

Ortega cleared one room, Jake the other. Johnson and tall Johnson each clearing two others.

The building had gone silent again, save for their footsteps on the tiled floor.

Jake approached another door, while Johnson went to open another.

_Bang._

Jake reacted, turning to face where Johnson had come from. _Amy._

Bullets were flying, and Jake pinned himself against the wall.

Someone - definitely not a cop - was making a run for it, gun strapped to each arm.

Jake felt a surge of relief.

He was alive.

It was immediately followed by crushing guilt. One of his team - Johnson - had his hands clenched over the bullet wound in his shoulder, leaning against the wall.

“Fuck.” Was all he said, blood dripping out over his fingers.

Jake raised his gun toward the retreating figure. ‘Stop, NYPD!” He shouted.

The suspect turned - and pointed both of his guns directly at Jake’s face.

_Fuck._

Jake threw himself behind a bookshelf, bullets spraying the air.

He turned his gun - pointing around the corner - and fired.

For the second time, in just a few moments, the bullets stopped.

Jake came out from behind the bookshelf. Johnson was still on the ground, breathing heavily through gritted teeth, one hand clenched around his other shoulder.

“Nice shot, fucker.” Johnson grinned, teeth clenched painfully.

Jake didn’t say anything, voice seeming to be shut off. His mind was racing, but all he did was slowly walk over to the suspect. Kick the two guns away. Check for a pulse. There was one - Jake hadn’t been aiming to kill - and Jake couldn’t help but feel relieved.

Shooting people was not nearly as cool as it was in movies. And killing people was decidedly less so.

Jake pressed his radio. “33218 calling in. One suspect down, one officer down. Team 3, calling in. Over.”

His radio buzzed back. It was the Captain. “Get the officer out, wait for backup on the suspect.”

Tall Johnson gave their location - Jake hadn’t been keeping track. Soon enough, another team - Jake didn’t recognize anyone on it - came by.

They ordered their team back outside, tall johnson helping Johnson make it out. They were going to take care of the suspect - their team was seemingly comprised entirely of people built like Terry.

Ortega was made point on getting them out - leading the way. Jake brought up the rear, walking backwards to keep his eyes on the building as they retreated.

When the sun finally hit him, Jake didn’t react, eyes still glued to the building. When they made it outside, Jake didn’t react. It was only once they were past the barricade, and emergency responders were helping Johnson onto a gurney, that Jake allowed himself to relax. His arms dropped to his side, and he let out a breath that he felt like he’d been holding since the moment the order, “Show me going” had been sounded.

Jake glanced around the HQ. The Captain was still laser-focused on the radio, but it looked like another team had left, too - probably after having been shot.

Jake recognized one of the 125 detectives, and the beat cop who had been trying to get the vest on. Both looked unhurt - although the cop had blood spattered up her arms.

Jake walked over to the pair. “When are we going to go back in?”

The detective shook his head. “We’re not. The other two teams in play have the last suspect pinned. It should be over pretty soon - they want us out of the way.”

“Oh.” Jake found himself to be relieved. It wasn’t that he was a coward - hell, he was known for jumping in “Eyes closed, head first, can’t lose” - but Jake had already been shot at once, today. He really didn’t need to go through it again.

Sure enough, the last suspect was brought out, handcuffed, and the operation was deemed a success.

The Captain was taking stock of the injured - thankfully, no cops had died - and Jake flashed a thumbs up to Gonzalez, who had emerged as point in her group.

She grinned back - slightly manic, but whose wasn’t, right now? - but stuck to the side of the barricade with her fellow 9-7s.

Jake peeled out of his kevlar, dropping off the way-cool gun that felt too heavy in his hands as he went, before signing off and heading back to his car.

He drove on autopilot back to the precinct - he considered turning on his phone, but that would mean _waiting_ to see Amy again, and he didn’t want to do that.

Jake wanted to see Amy.

He took the stairs up - the elevator was taking too long, and strode into the precinct, fast. The team were all standing there, pizza boxes open - noice, pizza - apparently yelling at Scully about something.

“Hey.” Jake said awkwardly.

The others whipped around - Amy dropped her plate on the floor, running up to wrap him in a hug.

“We were so worried!” She said, almost suffocating in how tightly she was gripping him.

Jake appreciated it.

“Yeah, Jake.” Rosa said, “Was it as movie-magic as you’d hoped?”

Jake could have gone on and on about how cool it was - the team wouldn’t have questioned it. He could’ve just pretended it was awesome, and they’d never call him out. He wouldn’t have to admit that he was scared.

Instead, Jake just brought up his arms to hug Amy back.

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Dope.” Rosa replied. “Wanna go to the bar and drink in silence?”

“Yes.” Jake replied.

Amy squeezed his shoulder as she let go of him - the opposite shoulder of where Johnson had been shot, where blood had spilled out to cover his hand and run rivulets down his arm, sticky rivers of red being left behind.

Jake smiled down at her, soft and genuine. He’d talk to her about it later - when they were alone, and no one would be there to judge him if he cried.

Jake had been scared.

And as Amy cleared her throat and straightened her jacket as she stepped away from him, Jake figured he wasn’t the only one, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure if the request wanted a focus on Jake or a focus on the team, so... I wrote both :D
> 
>  _Total Request:_ I love the way you write Jake and the rest of the 99 crew! If you're still taking requests, could you maybe write something inspired by 'Show Me Going' and have Jake be the one they're worried about instead of Rosa?? And if you want to add some extra Jake whump in there, well I wouldn't be mad about that
> 
> Thank you @itspaigemadison for your request! :D


	2. Jake's Perspective

_“Peralta. 33218.”_

“Peralta? Our Peralta?” Terry asked, sitting forward. Everyone’s nerves, if possible, shot even higher.

“That’s Jake’s badge number.” Amy confirmed, voice shaking.

Boyle sat down into his chair, seemingly seconds from fainting.

“What the fuck does he think he’s doing?” Rosa asked sharply.

“He’s doing his job.” Holt replied, although his voice, too, was edged with the faintest hint of concern.

Amy ran her fingers through her hair, sitting down into her chair - well, not hers, anymore.

“This isn’t happening.” She breathed, feeling the coolness of her wedding ring against her forehead as she closed her eyes.

Not Jake. Not Jake.

No.

“The best thing to do is get back to work.” Holt said, not unkindly. “Peralta needs to come back to us being productive.”

Gina was already on her phone - and called out, ‘He’s turned his phone off. Can’t reach him.”

“It’s standard procedure.” Amy said automatically, “He’s really going in.”

“Hey.” Rosa said awkwardly, “He’ll be fine. He’s got… ‘skillz’.”

Amy chuckled, but it felt forced.

Rosa flashed her a tight, awkward smile, as she strode back to her desk and pulled out her knives, slowly sheathing each and every one of them into her clothing.

“What are you doing?” Terry asked.

“Going to help him. He’ll need backup.”

“We’ve been ordered not to!”

“Well, fuck the orders.” Rosa shrugged.

Amy shook her head. “Rosa, please, don’t.”

Rosa spun on her, glowering, but then forced it back down.

“Whatever.” But she made no further moves to leave.

“Hey, we could… do his paperwork, while we wait.” Boyle said awkwardly, pushing his chair over to where Amy was sitting. “That way… he has something to look forward to. When he comes back.”

Amy nodded. “Yeah, yeah, we should… we should do that.”

The pair started filing away the papers. It was atrocious, the amount of spelling errors involved. They were barely an eighth of the way in when the radio crackled. ‘Shots fired. Officers down.”

Amy turned so quickly she nearly fell out of her chair. “Did they say who?”

Holt was shaking his head before Amy even finished talking. “No. They keep it confidential until they have the official numbers at the end of the event. They think there are two suspects, both armed.”

Amy’s heart sank, if possible, even lower. All she could think about was Jake.

“Hey, we should… we should keep going.” Boyle said awkwardly.

“Why? What’s the point. We’re just wasting time doing… paperwork.”

“So Jake can relax when he gets back.” Boyle added.

“Which we’d only not be doing… if we thought he wasn’t going to come back.” Amy supplemented.

They looked at each other for a moment, before both immediately pulling out another file from the stack, getting back to it with renewed effort.

They were so invested, Amy didn’t even realize Rosa had left until the radio crackled to life once more.

“One suspect down. Officer down.”

Amy looked around the precinct - and this was when she realized Rosa had left, and Holt was sitting in his office, one of his signature wisp-of-a-frowns on his face.

Amy wasn’t really paying attention to the busy work in front of her - her eyes kept flitting up to the radio, sitting idly on Gina’s desk.

The elevator doors dinged open, and Rosa stepped out, pizza boxes in her arms.

“Here. Food.” She said brusquely, placing the boxes on top of her desk, and handing out plates. “No point in us worrying.” Then her eyes caught Amy’s, and she amended her statement. “Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t, though.”

Amy took a slice gratefully. “I’m so worried.” She admitted. She’d been running her hands through her hair nonstop, and it was probably a mess. “I love him, I don’t want him to… die.”

“He won’t. He’s a clever bastard.” Gina said, before admitting, slightly quieter, “I hope.”

“Well, you never know.” Boyle said hopefully, “Maybe he’ll come through those elevator doors right now!”

They all turned to stare at them, suddenly unable to look away.

They dinged.

They opened.

It was Scully.

“Come on man, seriously?” Terry yelled.

“Yeah, what the hell? You can’t just do that, Scully!” Rosa looked like she was about to murder him.

“I’m sorry.” Scully said immediately, “I don’t know what I did. But I’m sorry.”

“Damn right you’re sorry!” Gina shot back.

“Hey.”

Amy turned, rising to her feet.

Jake was standing in front of them. He smiled tightly.

Amy was vaguely aware of moving, of approaching. Her arms were around Jake, holding tightly - too tight - but she couldn’t make herself loosen her grip. Nerves, she supposed, were getting to her. She could only pretend to keep it together so much.

His hands came up to hug her.

“I love you, I love you,” She muttered over and over, unable and unwilling to let go.

Jake melted into her arms a bit, tension seeming to drain out of his body at her touch.

“Yeah, Jake.” Rosa said from over Amy’s shoulder somewhere, “Was it as movie-magic as you’d hoped?”

Jake’s arms came up to hold Amy back. He gripped tight, too, and Amy could feel the fear, the anxiety, leftover from the event in the way his arms shook just a bit. Imperceptible to sight, but she knew what Jake felt like when he was scared. She’d seen him with nightmares - knew what it was.

He had been afraid.

Good. Afraid meant alert. Afraid meant _alive_.

“I don’t really want to talk about it.” He finally said, quietly.

“Dope.” Rosa replied, clearly relieved to avoid an emotional conversation. “Wanna go to the bar and drink in silence?”

“Yes.” Jake replied automatically.

His fingers twitched apologetically at Amy’s back, but she didn’t hold it against him. Later on, when they were in the privacy of their own home, she knew he would come undone.

She certainly would be.

After a moment, she stepped back, clearing her throat, tactfully avoiding the pizza she had, at some point, apparently thrown to the ground.

She shot him a reassuring look, and was pretty sure Jake understood.

Drinks in silence with Rosa, and then sobbing in the darkness with her, later.

Besides, she was sure he would have plenty of “nearly-died-sex, Amy! I’ve always wanted to have that!” commentary coming up, trying to cover for the break in his mask.

Amy smiled at him, and he returned it, soft and warm.

And so, so real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure if the request wanted a focus on Jake or a focus on the team, so... I wrote both :D
> 
>  _Total Request:_ I love the way you write Jake and the rest of the 99 crew! If you're still taking requests, could you maybe write something inspired by 'Show Me Going' and have Jake be the one they're worried about instead of Rosa?? And if you want to add some extra Jake whump in there, well I wouldn't be mad about that
> 
> Thank you @itspaigemadison for your request! :D


End file.
